Andic and the moral debt of the rich

Shortly before his death, Isak Andic had begun to outline what he wanted to be his final great work: a foundation intended to channel part of his fortune towards social causes. The founder of Mango was already discreetly collaborating with institutions like Sant Joan de Déu, but he wanted to turn that commitment into a legacy. The project never materialized. And this week, the judicial investigation into the businessman's death has made that unfinished philanthropic project a central piece of the case.has turned that unfinished philanthropic project into a central piece of the case..

What Andic wanted to do went beyond occasional philanthropy. There was the idea that a great fortune entails public responsibility. And this idea—little rooted in Europe—has been a central piece of American capitalism for decades. From Rockefeller and Carnegie to Buffett and Gates, great philanthropy has functioned almost as a form of moral legitimation of wealth. Massive donation is not just an individual gesture, but another piece of the economic culture of the United States.

In Europe, the legitimacy of wealth has historically been built in another way. Where the American model has tended to rely more on private philanthropy, the European model opted to institutionalize redistribution through strong welfare states and progressive tax systems. The idea was not that large fortunes would voluntarily return part of their wealth, but that social cohesion would be collectively guaranteed by public institutions. That is why great philanthropy has never occupied the same symbolic place here. And in Spain, even less so: large fortunes continue to be thought of primarily in terms of family continuity rather than social return.

But Andic arrives at this tradition just as the American model itself begins to crack. Philosopher Michael Sandel has for years warned of the corrosive effects of meritocracy. When those who succeed end up convinced that their success is exclusively the result of talent and effort, they tend to forget the weight of origin, opportunities, or luck. And when success is seen as something fully deserved, the sense of obligation towards others weakens. Perhaps that is why figures like Elon Musk represent another way of understanding philanthropy: not so much as a social return of wealth, but as an extension of a personal project.

The Andic case reflects these two transformations. On the one hand, Europe's difficulty in turning large-scale philanthropy into a stable institution beyond individual will. On the other hand, the erosion of a North American culture where wealth was still perceived as a moral debt to society. Perhaps the most profound change is not that the rich give less, but that they feel less and less obliged to do so. And when wealth is no longer lived as a debt, what should have returned to society becomes merely an object of dispute.